The Just
by dreaming of rocketships
Summary: Justice is something the world lacks, or that's how it seems to Callie anyway. Inequality, prejudice, violence, and unfairness run rampant through the British Ministry of Magic but no one cares to stop it. But who cares what she thinks, she's just an orphan girl still in Hogwarts. That's what the Potters tell her, at least. AU!
1. A Revolutionary Change

The problem with the most notorious forms of tyranny was that they were wholly dependent on a scapegoat. Scapegoats created a rally point for a specific tyrant to gather his base of loyal followers and more often than not, the fact that these tyrants could not possibly care less about the issue was fully ignored.

Take Hitler's Aryan race, for example. Those who were of pure German ancestry (few and far between) readily rallied around the idea that they were superior. They also readily ignored the fact that the main proponent of this ideal was clearly not part of that background. But still, he was a strong, charismatic leader who pushed the scapegoating as far as it could possibly go.

Where else did this occur?

Ah, yes. The concurrent regime of one, Gellert Grindelwald. He, however, found it prudent not only to use Hitler's agenda to suit his own, but managed to involve his own people against muggles. His entire spiel was to gather support and under his leadership to exterminate muggles. It helped that what the muggles were doing to each other further led to the Wizarding notion that muggles were either woefully ignorant of their actions or completely barbaric. Either way, Grindelwald was able to accumulate an impressive following.

Of course there were many others. The Holy Inquisition, for example, followed shortly by the Spanish Inquisition. There were wars of extermination in Australia, New Zealand, the whole of the Americas, Africa, Asia, Russia, France – absolutely no country was spared from this event and yet none of those who started the massacres survived. Not a single one reached their goal of total domination. Not a single one in future history books would be remembered kindly. Grindelwald and Hilter would meet a similar end.

So, where did they all go wrong?

The answer was glaringly obvious. They relied on a support base who were not the majority and who feared losing political clout and, without fail, did. Therefore, scapegoats were, in the long run, ineffective.

A different strategy would have to be used to garner support and favor. Perhaps even the combination of several strategies. Money, prestige, and prowess had ensured the success of many men both magical and non-magical throughout history. These were the men who history and time favored. These were the men whose reputations were immortal.

_And I will be among those numbers_, the young man thought as he leaned back in his seat and gazed around Hogwarts's library. Already, he was alone and as he looked out a latticed window, he understood why. There was, at most, a half hour before curfew began. This did not bother him in the slightest. After all, his rounds as prefect allowed him out past curfew.

The prefect looked down at his completed Transfiguration homework in distaste. He'd always disliked the subject and he wondered just how much of that was due to its professor. Professor Albus Dumbledore did not give the young man the chance to shine as he did in every other subject. Nor did the professor accept any of his actions or words at face value. He supposed this had to do with the situation he'd originally found the young man in. But honestly, that was a completely different environment, and a completely different child.

Six years had done away with not only the young man's childish need to steal and stash goods belonging to other children who had nothing, but also his constant need to hide or else inflict pain. Here, he was not bullied (at least, not anymore) and here he had plenty of his own. He'd made a name for himself already and steadily received the rewards for it.

Albus Dumbledore saw it fit to ignore any progress he made, though. Most likely, he suspected what the young man was planning. Or even more likely, suspected that it was going to be much worse. But the young man was not foolish. He watched with increasing interest as both magical and non-magical Europe were plunged into war. He read papers from both sides and realized that their scapegoat tactics were used not only to start the war but to fight against the propagators. The young man was learning from their mistakes and his resolve not to fall into the same pattern only strengthened when research proved that this was a common occurrence.

The young man furled his essay and placed it into his open bag quickly followed by his school books. He then closed the bag, stood, and replaced the books into their appropriate slots on the shelves still thinking about the ways in which his new plans would play out. Luckily, it was not difficult to put his current plots to rest. No, those would not have served him well, simply put him onto the same path as those before him.

He grabbed his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and pushed in his chair before heading out the library. The young man would have to rethink his entire strategy and wondered, briefly, how much of a difference there really was between those who could wield wands and those who could not. Obviously, the same pattern applied to wizards as well as to muggles. They were not immune to the same flaws, meaning that perhaps they were benefited by some of the same positive qualities as wizards.

He scoffed as he uttered the password to the Slytherin common rooms and climbed in. As if.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stared at the destruction that was once the home of one, Tom Marvolo Riddle. It had been a rather impressive home. Only three stories but half a block long and nearly as wide. The entrance hall had no wall but a large, shining window through which visitors could see the elegant center stairway leading to the second floor. Now that glass lay shattered and crunching under the solid soles of Dumbledore's rather expensive dragon-hide boots.

The man, now far too old to be doing this sort of thing, carefully picked his way through what was left of the house and attempted to scale the staircase. Under normal circumstances he would not have bothered but at this point he was unable to do anything else. He simply had to visually confirm what his ears had no trouble discerning in the heavy silence that one could only hear in the aftermath of death and devastation.

He wondered if he would have carried out this particular mission had he suspected something like this could happen. However, in all his years studying Tom Riddle, he knew this situation to be more than improbable. It was completely and utterly impossible.

And yet, how else could he explain the screams of at least two children, a woman, the wailing of an infant, and the terrified squeaks of house elves? Had he made a mistake in selecting this estate as being the property of Riddle? No, Dumbledore had watched Riddle carefully. There was no mistaking that this was his home and besides, Dumbledore did not make such simple and damaging mistakes as that. But how had he missed the family?

Should it not have been simple to see children running about the manor or perhaps throwing themselves into their father's arms after a long day of work? But perhaps they knew better and he had a family only for appearance's sake. No, Dumbledore had reassured himself, there was no love here. That was the impossibility; having a family was not. To top it off, the innocent family had all gotten out safely and would not be separated.

That hope though evaporated when he realized that, after the absence of extra chattering from the house elves, the distinctive crack of someone disapparating, and the ensuing silence after the Fiend's Fyre dissipated, he still could hear wailing. It was this crying, the crying of an innocent, defying all odds, still alive that sent him scaling through the rubble.

He had thought that perhaps the infant was trapped underneath the rubble but had not been seriously injured, and maybe, its position had spared it from the fire. But the reality was to see a fairly large box in the back of what would have once been the second floor, surrounded by debris which sometimes fell from the third floor. He made quick work of moving this to the side and was surprised to see that though charred, the wall itself was intact.

Dumbledore hesitated as he realized that the door knob had been melted off and was now a cooling puddle on the floor. After a quick Alohomora, his suspicion was confirmed. The locks bolting the door in place had melted and cooled making his entrance impossible. But impossible was starting to look less and less, well, impossible.

After all, the room was protected by nothing short of wards which made it impenetrable for the Fiend's Fyre to enter while every other room was decimated. A father who did not love their child would not have bothered to expend the time and energy it would have taken to construct a ward this powerful and only one wizard still living besides him could have.

The old man pushed aside his doubts and waved his wand. The spell disappeared into the wards but did no damage to the simple wooden door. However, the infant had now stopped crying and there was soft coo of pleasure (or was it wonder?) from within. Had the wards really? He performed the spell again and this time there was gurgle from the infant. The wards had. Perhaps using the energy from his spells it had made some form of entertainment for the infant. That would explain why neither he nor the family had heard crying until the fire ceased.

Simple, strange, and effective. Most attackers would not have bothered to stick around to see that their attack was successful. In that case, the wards would have ensured that the infant was not heard and would afterwards alert its father the child was still safe, though unhappy, within the room. Perhaps he could suggest something of the sort to the Potters and Longbottoms.

But first, how to get the baby safely out of this room? No sooner had he thought this than the door disintegrated giving him the first view of the nursery. Pale blue walls, a white rocking chair facing a set of French windows (safely latched), clothes folded clumsily on a changing table, and in the center a cradle containing a baby sitting up with a floppy blue rabbit safely hugged to her yellow pajamas and chewing on her right fist.

He walked over to the baby and stared down into the cradle for a moment as she looked back at him with innocently curious, hazel eyes. Dumbledore decided, that before he picked her up (not knowing what would happen if he did), he would try to find out some basic information about her and moved to the drawers under the changing table. Diapers, pacifiers, clothing, bottles... Dumbledore placed all of this in a bag he transfigured from the changing table pillow and continued his search. After throwing in several toys and a few blankets as well, he found what he was looking for.

It was a children's book with some fairly important information written on the inside front cover. _This Book Belongs To: Caelestis Malon Riddle_. Pleased, but not satisfied, Dumbledore added this to the bag and continued on to find a baptismal book. Needless to say this stunned Dumbledore. Tom Riddle, religious? He concluded that it was perhaps the child's mother who insisted on the ceremony and found that the child was born on 30 May, 1981 making her just over six months old. He closed this and placed it into the bag before standing up from his kneeling position with a soft groan.

He had to admit, he was getting much too old for this. After a brief stretch, a strong sense of urgency took over and he quickly moved to the cradle gathering both Caelestis Riddle (still covered in a soft blanket) and her blue bunny into his arms before hurrying out the room. As soon as he stepped out with the baby in his arms, the room collapsed and he Apparated away still very much impressed by the ward's intricacies.

* * *

An hour later found Tom Riddle standing in the very same spot from which Albus Dumbledore had Disapparated. The scene was no longer deathly silent but calls and yelps sounded as the various wizards milled about, occasionally slipping over the remains of his home. Normally, seeing this amount of destruction would have had him snarling and snapping orders. But he felt no inclination to do anything but stand there gazing down at where his daughter's nursery should have been.

A hand landed on his shoulder, gently squeezing it.

"Tom, come. There's nothing we can do here," a woman said.

If there were anything that Tom Riddle dreaded hearing, that was it. That there was absolutely nothing he could do to solve this problem.

"Come," the woman repeated. "The children are waiting."

Tom Riddle bit back a whimper as he answered her, "Not all of them. I'm not leaving until I know – "

"Until you know what?" the woman snapped. "Nothing you learn here will help bring her back!"

"I have to know if the wards – if they failed."

The woman removed her hand from his shoulder and he used this opportunity to shake off his own inactivity and with more strength than he knew he possessed dug, pulled, pried, and pushed the rubble away from room, for the first time in years forgetting that he owned a wand. The woman sighed and called over her shoulder, "Come help us move this mess!" before she too began excavating the room.

Within minutes every wand was helping in the task and several minutes later the smashed cradle was revealed.

The sight drew a gasp from the woman and a sob from Tom Riddle because the cradle was, most blessedly, empty.


	2. Going Home

**Disclaimer: Don't own most of the characters, certainly not the places, and most certainly not Harry Potter. Thus, I make no money from this story. **

* * *

_**Chapter 2: Going Home**_

Albus Dumbledore sat at the kitchen table in Number 5 Trellis Way in the small Wizarding village of Godric's Hollow nursing a wonderfully warm mug of tea. Lily Potter nee Evans paced the length of the room, as James Potter's hazel eyes followed from the entrance to the stove and back again, all the while bouncing the crying child in her arms.

Lily Potter had been at this for nearly fifteen minutes but the baby had no intention of letting up and Lily, who knew nothing about the baby but her name and date of birth was at a complete loss. Not even the lullaby which sent her 16 month old son, Harry, straight to sleep seemed to work. There was always one option that would work but she wasn't going to be the one to suggest it.

"Why not just return the baby to her parents?" James Potter asked his former headmaster as the said child screamed, "Da. Da, Da, Dadadadada!" "It's obvious that's what she wants," he continued.

"What a six month old child wants and what is best for that child are not the same thing, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore replied with a small smile. "She would, after all, have been raised in such a way that she would become like Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Would you honestly say that is better than the woman she could become under your guidance and love?" Dumbledore had to admit, he was laying it on thick but he had no doubt of its validity. Except, perhaps, for one thing: was this child capable of love? He certainly hoped so, but only time would tell.

Lily continued to pace the kitchen, bouncing the child gently and finally dropped into a chair still holding the baby in her arms. The baby sniffled, catching her breath, before rubbing a small fist into her eyes and closing them. James let out a small sigh of relief; the crying really had been giving him a headache. His wife smiled but continued to rock the baby gently and when she finally spoke, it was in a whisper.

"I think we'll be OK taking care of her and it'll be good for Harry to have a little sister."

James shook softly his head but smiled, "I don't think Harry'll be too pleased that he has to share his mummy."

"He'll get used to it."

"Alright then, but don't complain when she throws a tantrum, throws cereal on the walls, or breaks your favorite record."

Lily laughed. "I'll try not to."

Dumbledore smiled at the young couple already knowing that he could not have possibly chosen a better family to raise the Dark Lord's daughter than the Potters. They were everything a family should be; loving, kind, warm, protective, merry, and tightly woven. The Potters would provide a good, nourishing environment for Caelestis Riddle. In the meantime, he had a other matters which required his attention. He sighed at the thought of the stack of paperwork sitting on his desk in Hogwarts.

"Professor? Has there been any word about the prophecy?" Lily asked, the baby now fast asleep in her arms.

The elderly wizard smiled widely at this and nodded. "It seems that there is great news about this actually. He has declared that Divination is absolute rubbish and intends to treat it as such. He will make no move to harm either you or the Longbottoms, at least not on the basis of a prophecy."

James's smile mirrored the headmaster's and he laughed joyously. "That means we can come out of hiding?"

"Indeed."

"Brilliant! I'm going to floo Sirius, Remus, and Peter. We're in dire need of a party!" He hopped off the kitchen counter, on which he'd perched when Dumbledore took his seat an hour ago, and sprinted into the living room. Not five minutes later he reentered the kitchen followed by three men. They greeted Dumbledore warmly and gently squeezed Lily's shoulder when they saw the small bundle in her arms.

"Well, I must be off. Minerva must be becoming restless as she waits for news of the mission. Sending a rescue party after me would certainly have catastrophic consequences." James and Lily quickly agreed and the five adults bid their former headmaster farewell with James seeing him out.

On James's return the question the three men were was asked by Peter, "Who's the baby?"

Using that as her cue, Lily stood up and entered the spare bedroom where the couple had agreed to use as a nursery. She stood in the doorway for a moment and sighed. Before she could go back downstairs however, the bed resting against the far wall changed into a crib and all the bedsheets shrunk to fit within that crib. Lily glanced behind her and saw her husband leaning against the wall behind her grinning.

"The benefits of carrying your wand around with you are endless," he said by way of explanation.

Lily shook her head and walked into the room. After placing the sleeping baby into the crib, she returned to her husband and standing on tiptoe, pecked him on the lips. It was only then that she answered, "You mean endless laziness."

James laughed as his wife turned and went back downstairs and greet their friends properly. He walked into the room and gazed into the crib at the small child who would become as much a part of his family as his little son in the next room.

The sound of laughter finally drew him out of the room, and after setting one of Lily's fairy-light globes on the dresser, he shut off the overhead light, and the door clicked shut behind him.

* * *

Callie Potter watched patiently as her big brother was practically squeezed to death once more. Only this time Callie knew that pretty soon, he would be released and she'd suffer the same suffocating hug because this time she was going to Hogwarts as well. Part of her was thrilled about this since Harry had spoken of nothing else since coming home over this past summer. The other part though, the larger part, was absolutely terrified.

She was scared of almost everything this experience would bring. This was the first time she'd be away from her parents and she was terrified that no one would like her, or that she would get teased mercilessly about the fact that she still needed a fairy-light to fall asleep as well as the stuffed rabbit she'd had since before she could remember. And what if the teachers didn't like her? Or if she wasn't smart or funny or brave or the absolute worst, what if she the Sorting Hat placed her in Slytherin? She didn't think she'd survive being alone much less in the house where everyone turned evil. Then Harry and Neville wouldn't like her anymore, and her mum and dad would send her to Azka –

Her train of thought was interrupted by a pair of strong, familiar, and warm arms wrapped around her. She leaned into the warmth and allowed it to comfort her for a moment before she was released.

"You be careful now, Callie, you hear?" James Potter said, looking down at her. Harry, she noticed, had already gotten onto the fiery steam engine.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." He wrapped her in another hug before pulling away and she was left to face Lily Potter who like last year was silently crying.

But this time, it wasn't only because her son was going away; it was because for the first time in 12 years, she wouldn't have any children with her. And this time, Callie knew that there were tears mixed in because she would be missed. Callie tried not to start crying at this as well. It wouldn't do well for people to start calling her a cry-baby before she even got on the train.

"Have you got everything?" Lily asked, and Callie nodded quickly. "OK, but if you find you haven't I could always send them with an owl. Well, be good and make sure to listen to all your teachers and to study hard." Callie swallowed but nodded again. "OK then, I love you."

Lily hugged her and Callie used this opportunity to whisper "I love you too, mummy," into her hair.

James ruffled Callie's hair as she separated from Lily and she groaned which of course made her mum laugh. "Get on the train before you get left behind. Love you."

"Yes, daddy. Love you too." With that Callie dragged her trunk to the train, with only a couple glances back at her parents, and pulled it down the corridor as she searched for the compartment her brother was in. She found it several minutes later, already full with he and his friends already laughing.

She somehow managed to continue down the corridor until she found one with only two occupants inside; a girl with long blonde hair and a boy who gazed back up at her with very familiar eyes. It was startling at first and it took a moment for Callie to recollect her thoughts.

"Do you guys mind if I sit in here?"

"Not at all," the blonde said. Callie tugged her trunk in and the boy helped her stow it on the overhead rails before reclaiming his seat. "My name is Luna Lovegood. Who are you?"

"Caelestis Potter, but you can call me Callie; everyone else does."

The boy stared at her for a few more moments before he seemed to dismiss whatever was bothering and then he also answered the question. "I'm Gawain Riddle."

It turned out that the three of them had quite a bit in common. They were all entering the same year, they all favored the Hopping Hippogriffs (a rather popular pop band), they all preferred Liquorice Wands, and none of them were infested with Wrackspurts. Callie honestly had no idea what that last one meant but it sounded unpleasant and she was glad to hear this news. That though, was about where their similarities ended. On after thought, she had to admit it wasn't much they had in common.

Apparently, Luna lived her father who ran a publication called _The Quibbler_ out of their living room. At this, Gawain scoffed and declared that _The Quibbler_ was complete rubbish and anyone worth a Knut knew that. Luna took great offense and Callie was left to smooth things over by saying that it was just a matter of opinion, especially since her parents thought the _Daily Prophet_ wasn't worth a Knut. This satiated Luna while Gawain simply shrugged and turned his gaze out the window.

It was silent for what felt like a full 24 hours. Callie finally broke it with the question that had been bothering her since she received her letter over three months before. "What house do you guys think you'll be in?"

"Both my parents were in Ravenclaw, so I suppose I'll be too," Luna said in that dreamy voice of hers.

"Slytherin," Gawain answered promptly. "What about you?"

"Does it really go by what house your parents were in?" Callie asked instead. If so she had nothing to worry about. Happiness bubbled in her stomach until –

"Not always, it depends more on your own personality than on family," Gawain replied. Callie's heart sank and her face must have shown it because he then added, "But if it really bothers you, my father says you can ask to be placed in a specific house. Of course, the hat would have to agree, but it's a start."

"Daddy said we should let the Hat do its job. It knows what's best for us."

"So did mine, Luna."

"Well, if you don't want to be in a specific house that badly then you can just let the thing sort you without taking your desires into account," Gawain snapped. "It doesn't concern me in the least."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to toss your suggestion aside like that," Callie said, and kicking herself for having lost a friend already and for causing him to be angry.

Gawain looked over at her and shrugged again. "It's alright. I'm sorry for being rude."

This time Callie shrugged as relief flooded through her. "It's 'k."

The rest of the ride revealed that Gawain and Luna's favorite colors were dark blue and yellow respectively and that both of them knew what they wanted to do when they grew up. An Auror and Healer respectively.

By the time the Hogwarts Express came to a stop in Hogsmeade Station, Callie was feeling awfully lost and awfully little. She stuck with Luna and Gawain until she heard someone call for Gawain. He wished her and Luna good luck before he went to join his own friends and that left the two of them to climb into a boat followed by a boy with a camera draped over his neck who introduced himself as Colin Creevey and a girl with flaming red hair, Ginny Weasley.

Callie and Ginny had met a couple times over the summer as their brothers were now best friends but they barely spoke a word to each other. The boat ride into Hogwarts (which left them all momentarily speechless) was monopolized by Creevey who spoke a mile a minute and didn't seem to need anyone else's input. Two of the girls were quite happy when the boat pulled into the underground harbor and Luna didn't seem to mind either way.

The first years were greeted at the door by a strict witch who introduced herself to them. "My name is Professor McGonagall and I am the Deputy Headmistress here at Hogwarts. For the next seven years, Hogwarts will be your home and your housemates will be your family. Any rule-breaking will result in points lost from your family while achievements will earn you points. Each house is gifted with different attributes and are as follows: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now the rest of the students are waiting for us, so come along."

Callie took a deep breath, stepped into the single file that had formed, and followed her soon-to-be classmates into the Great Hall. Harry and her parents had told her about the Great Hall but actually seeing the clouds drifting lazily across the velvet skies above the thousands of candles took her breath away. She didn't realize they'd stopped walking until she bumped into the kid in front of her.

"Sorry," she mumbled almost incoherently. The other girl frowned but nodded before looking forward again.

She ignored the fact that the Sorting Hat was singing not because it was boring, but because she really felt as if she would be sick. She was sure that if the frogs in her belly didn't stop jumping about soon, she would create a scene and she didn't need that.

"When I call your name sit on the stool and put on the hat." These words forced Callie to look up.

"Abrams, Sarah."

The girl she'd bumped into did as previously instructed and without a second thought the hat called out "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Alexis, Jacob."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The first Gryffindor was "Creevey, Colin" quickly followed by the first Slytherin, "Cristoff, Silas." Several names later came the first Ravenclaw, "Everest, Tricia."

By this point, Callie could hardly breathe. What if it all went wrong? What if the hat took forever to sort her and she was left sitting up there until someone said that all this had been a mistake and she had no magic in her? What if she couldn't get back home?

"Lovegood, Luna."

What if she were sorted into Slytherin?

"RAVENCLAW."

How would she ever face her brother? How would she tell her parents? Would they be disappointed? Would they send her away forever?

"Potter, Caelestis." She walked to the stool, suddenly very numb and unaware of all the eyes that followed her. The hat dropped onto her head, over the top of her ears, and finally settled just over her eyes and there was darkness.

"Well, well, well. What have we here? Another Potter? No, I don't think so. Well, isn't this interesting?! You have much more in common with your father than in my first glance but, still, not enough for Slytherin."

"Pardon, but my dad was a Gryffindor," Callie corrected.

"Your dad, yes, without a doubt he's a Gryffindor and that wouldn't do very well for you, now would it? That leaves either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. The choice between those two is easy enough." The next moment made the hat's choice official and irreversible.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Professor McGonagall lifted the hat from her eyes and Callie's eyes were drawn to the yellow and black clad table. It was unexpected, Callie thought, as she made her way towards them, but the frogs had been replaced by a powerful feeling of happiness and pride. She sat down next to Sarah Abrams and the next name she paid any attention to was "Riddle, Gawain."

He got his wish and was soon sent to Slytherin although he looked displeased about something or another.

"Weasley, Ginny."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

With that the deputy headmistress picked up the stool with the hat resting atop it and left the Great Hall. The headmaster, dressed in exquisite violet robes with little twinkling stars, gave his speech and finally food appeared on the table. She listened happily as the entire table started humming with conversation and watched as bowls full of food were passed around with "Pass the gravy, Diggory" and "How was your summer?" and cheerful laughter. Callie added her voice into the mix as she was passed a bowl and helped herself to some of its contents before passing it on.

_This_, she thought, _isn't so bad_.

* * *

**AN: Chapter 2 is now out...just 3.5 hours after chapter 1. And with this I am now going to bed. This story has been buzzing in my head for the past week or so, and well, it's time it came out. Of course, it chooses to come out when I have to be up in a couple hours but c'est ma vie. Anyway, hope you liked and sorry if you didn't. **

**Love, **

**DoR**


	3. A Rogue Bludger

**Disclaimer: Don't own the world of H.P. or in canon characters. **

* * *

_**Chapter 3: A Rogue Bludger**_

It was October and already quite cold but still Callie found herself on the Quidditch pitch. The Gryffindor players were getting ready to practice and as this was Harry's first real Quidditch practice, Callie thought it would be the good-sisterly thing to do if she went to watch. So, she had gotten all dressed up in warm clothes and a pair of gloves only to see that as soon as the Gryffindor came out of the changing rooms to begin practice the Slytherin team had found their way onto the pitch. She sighed just knowing that this encounter would lead to some trouble because that's the way it always was.

From the very first day of classes, she realized that house rivalries were something very real. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws generally stayed out of the mess, only choosing sides when it was absolutely necessary, but the Gryffindors and Slytherins never missed a chance to exert superiority. Gryffindors declared their superiority on the basis of equanimity and morals while Slytherins declared their superiority based on blood status, finances, and skill. Both houses were firm and unwavering in their beliefs and neither enjoyed being corrected. Thus, the fights.

She'd heard Harry ranting about how one Slytherin had tried to get him into detention by challenging Harry to a duel. Never having backed down from a challenge before, Harry had quickly accepted with Ron naming himself Harry's second. Draco Malfoy, that was the Slytherin's name.

"You've got yourself a new seeker. Who?" the Gryffindor captain asked more than a little annoyed as Callie approached keeping to the side of the teams.

The Slytherins parted as she'd seen wizards do one year at a rally for a very powerful wizard. She hadn't understood his importance but he seemed to ooze power which other wizards always deferred to. Draco Malfoy stepped forward. Honestly, Callie was a little disappointed. She'd been expecting someone better.

"Malfoy?" Harry half-asked and half-laughed.

"That's right; and that's not all that's new this year." Indeed it wasn't. "Nimbus 2001s for the entire team, a gift from Malfoy's father. It handles better than the Nimbus 2000 and," the Slytherin captain looked over at the broomsticks in Fred and George Weasley's hands, "outstrips anything your family can afford. A Cleansweep, isn't it?"

A girl Callie had only seen here in Hogwarts but was obviously inseparable from Harry and Ron took the moral high ground. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in; they got in on pure talent."

Sarah, who now stood elbow to elbow with Callie, shook her head. "Here we go again."

"Who asked your opinion, mud-blood?" Callie mentally winced at the insult. Of course, he could've been a bit more creative in her opinion but sometimes the oldest insults had the greatest effect. This situation was no different as both Harry and Ron both had pulled out their wands. Malfoy's shield charm was a second too late to block Harry's Jelly Legs hex, but Ron's more creative spell rebounded back on its caster.

One of the older Slytherins canceled the Jelly Legs on Malfoy but Ron was nowhere near as lucky. "Come on, let's get him to Hagrid's. He's closer," Harry ordered Hermione who quickly agreed and they both supported Ron as he spit up slugs.

"Hey, Harry can you turn him around?!" Colin Creevey had appeared at Harry's side with his camera at the ready.

"No, go away Colin!"

The trio of friends then headed to Hagrid's hut on the edge of the forest with Callie glaring daggers after them. She didn't follow as she may have done had Harry not just roughly pushed the boy aside. At first, she had to admit, Colin had been more than a little annoying but once she got to know him she realized that he was actually really nice. He was enthusiastic, of that there was no doubt, but that's because everything was so new to him and he loved telling stories. The camera that was always glued to his hand helped in that endeavor.

Most of the older students tended to treat him as Harry had just done and a ton of the Slytherins but their reason at least was more equitable. He was a muggleborn, undeserving of time and attention. That was the position they generally held although a couple of the more sneaky first-year Slytherins managed to corner him and ask about how the camera worked.

That was fun to watch. Colin had let them borrow it for the day, and they would snap pictures of each other making funny faces, when their more traditional pure-blood friends weren't looking. After the day was over they'd given it back and asked for the pictures if he ever managed to get it out of the box. Callie, having grown up with muggle technology, had laughed quietly at this.

Well, now that she had a better understanding of Colin, she was quite irritated with the way other students treated him.

"Hi, Colin," she said walking up to her downcast friend.

"'Lo, Callie." He shifted the camera and gave her his usual one-armed hug which she happily returned. "Are you going to watch the Slytherins practice?"

"I was here to watch my brother but since they left, why not?" The three first years made their way to sit in the stands and watch the Slytherins practice. "They're actually not that bad," she commented after awhile.

"Their beaters are weak," Sarah responded.

Callie watched the beaters and she found herself nodding. "They really do need to step up their defense. It's like they want their team to get pummeled."

"Are they seriously ignoring all the chasers and the keeper to focus on the seeker?" Sarah scoffed.

"That chaser is really good but he has to carry too much of the game."

"Good feint from Malfoy there."

"Yeah, he seems like a decent seeker."

"For his first practice he's more than decent."

"Come on, seriously? Did you see that?"

"Think I missed it."

"The flippin' chaser just pulled the reserve's broom!"

"What?! This is only a practice!"

"I know! Practicing fouls in a practice!"

"It's disgraceful!"

"Holy cow." The girls turned to Colin and Callie cocked her head inquiringly. "You two are going on about the game and I have no idea what's happening."

"We'll teach you!" They began explaining Quidditch to their muggleborn friend and were just getting to the jobs of the different players when suddenly –

"BRILLIANT!" Both girls had jumped up and leaned over the railing to watch the seeker pull smoothly out of a very steep dive. The team's captain and keeper grinned at their reaction and the practice continued in much the same manner with Colin watching the game and listening to their commentary.

* * *

"You foolish girl! What did you do?!" an irate Professor Snape ground out, glowering at the unfortunate witch who'd managed to melt half her cauldron. The girl whimpered cradling her right arm in her uninjured left while her best friend moaned trying to cool her scalded hand by blowing on it.

"I don't know," the first girl cried.

Professor Snape growled, waved his wand over the cauldron, and vanished the miserably failed potion. "A zero for the day. Ms. Lovegood, if you're finished take these two to the Hospital Wing.

If there were one thing Caelestis Potter was sure of, it was this: she had not inherited her mother's natural talent for Potions. She'd discovered this the first day the first year class had attempted to brew a cure for boils. Her attempt had resulted in a trip to the Hospital Wing and a series of superior smirks from most of the Ravenclaws in the dungeon. The exception was Luna Lovegood.

Today was no different.

Luna was thankfully one of the best in the class. Even her housemates, who generally avoided her in fear of catching her strangeness, grudgingly admitted this. As result of her usual mastery, she'd finished her potion with plenty of time to spare and was usually tasked with bringing Callie and Sarah to the Hospital Wing.

"Luna, you're an angel, you know that right?" Sarah asked as Luna once again walked them to the Hospital Wing.

"That's really quite sweet of you," Luna answered with a bright smile, "but I'm just helping friends. I'm quite human, I can assure you."

"Still, you always help us out and you haven't once complained about the trouble we get into in Potions. Everyone else thinks we're completely incapable of human speech. They think we're bumbling baboons."

"Walking casualties," Callie added.

"The disaster duo."

"Rogue bludgers."

Luna's giggles interrupted Sarah and Callie's very long list of insulting nomenclatures the other students had given them. "Really it's obvious what you two have to do." She was met with blank stares. "You have to be more careful, especially in your classes."

The trio reached the infirmary door and Luna held it open for the other two. "It's no good when everything in your imagination flows but sometimes the body just doesn't cooperate."

"Oh for Merlin's sake! You two again?" Madam Pomfrey had just emerged from office. "Same as usual?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Callie answered.

"Well, hold out your arms then." Both girls complied and Callie watched as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over the scald marks. The thin layer of skin her potion had burned off regrew and smoothed out before her eyes, a process she knew by experience to take at least three or four days without Madam Pomfrey's help.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

The healer nodded her head and waved them away. "I would tell you girls to be careful but for all it's worth I might as well be talking to squirrel."

This, of course, sent Callie's mind spinning off on a tangent as the three girls made their way to lunch with Sarah and Luna chatting occasionally. The tangent involved a squirrel she'd seen on a trip into muggle London. She and her dad were walking through a park when a squirrel jumped out from behind a trashcan, dashed towards a bench, stopped, looked around it's little nose twitching as it stared at her, dodged into the bushes and made a quick, high leap landing neatly on the top of the bench. It stood frozen watching her before she decided to take a step closer. It then jumped onto the nearest tree and scurried up.

Squirrels, she decided, were much more careful than she could ever hope to be.

"Callie, are you coming?" Sarah asked grinning as if she knew was Callie had been thinking.

"Yep."

The two of them entered the Great Hall and made their way to the Hufflepuff table. Luna had split off from them for her next class, Herbology. She'd have lunch a little later.

Callie waved to Colin and Ginny both of whom were sitting at their house table. As expected, only Colin waved back before he returned his attention to the parchment spread out in front of him. Sarah though, didn't seem to notice Ginny's unresponsiveness and rushed over to her Gryffindor friend. Not wanting to eat alone, but knowing she'd be bored listening to Sarah and Ginny go on and on about an excessively handsome wizard named Gilderoy Lockhart, she decided to take a seat across from Colin.

"Homework?" she asked.

Colin nodded as he dotted an 'i' and then dipped his quill into an open ink-pot at his side. "It's really strange."

"Your homework?"

"No, using a quill and parchment."

"What do muggles use again?" Callie had heard her mum talking about the differences once but try as she might she couldn't recall. Maybe that was because she'd been focused on the talking images on the television and didn't care.

"We – they – use lined paper and something called pens which holds the ink inside. They're easier to write with than quills because they have grips, and the lined paper really does come in handy." Callie looked down at his parchment and had to agree. Lined paper would certainly have prevented his essay from having that downward slope.

"If you're concerned about using parchment and a quill you should speak to your professors. Maybe they'll let you hand in essays like that, especially if it's easier to read."

Colin nodded as he met her gaze and then brought it back down to start writing again. "Sounds like a good idea. I'll do that."

Callie ate the sandwich she'd made herself in silence and sipped on the pumpkin juice as she looked around the Great Hall. It was usually quiet during lunch so she wasn't surprised by that. But there was something that was bugging her. She just didn't know what.

The irritation that came with not knowing something that was just behind the door didn't last long as the doors swung open. Literally. Very confused Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years trudged into the Great Hall, tracking water. Callie looked up at both the ceiling and the clock on the wall behind the staff table. It was just as she thought. Raining and way too early for class to be over.

Only Luna looked unaffected by the change in schedule and glided to the Gryffindor table next to Callie. Ginny, eager for some gossip or something of the sort, leaned over the table to see Luna better. "What's going on?"

"I expect you'll find out soon enough," Luna replied sending Ginny a vacant smile. Callie restrained herself from grinning at the disappointment that crossed Ginny's face as she settled back into her seat. But it only lasted until the doors opened again to let in the remainder of the Hogwarts students.

Callie groaned. She was going to have to spend the remainder of her lunch at her house table. Sarah's protest revealed that she felt the same way along with the slightly less dreamy expression on Luna's. The three girls got up and headed to their respective table before sitting down again.

"It's a bit strange, isn't it?" Sarah asked as she looked up at the staff table which was also filling up. Callie nodded.

Yes, it was a bit strange and it was also something bad. That was the only reason why the Headmaster would consent to cutting short every class in the castle and have everyone gather in the Great Hall. It was also the only reason she could possibly see that would cause the Headmaster's twinkle to disappear. But what exactly that "bad" entailed, she couldn't possibly guess.

* * *

It had not been a good day for the Headmaster. In fact, it had not even started out good. His muggle coffeemaker had chosen that morning not to work or rather Fawkes (who usually woke him up in the morning) had burst into flames and the coffeemaker caught fire along with him. That would have been bad enough since tea just did not have the same effect but as he was getting dressed, the seam on his favorite hat broke.

Just when he thought his morning could not possibly get worse (which was never a good idea to say out loud because Fate cannot resist a challenge), the owl came. Apparently, Fate was now using Legilimency. To be sure the Headmaster was used to owls and not all brought bad news but this one was very official looking and the ink on the envelope was still fairly fresh. This owl had flown fast and true. And nothing flies faster than bad news.

With this in mind, Albus Dumbledore had taken off the envelope and the owl had promptly flown out the window. Another ominous sign. He slowly opened the envelope and the heavy parchment fell out. The Ministry of Magic's header informed him that it was official.

He cleared the forming lump out of his throat and read the letter:

_To Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,_

It has come to the attention of those in the Ministry of Magic that there is a possible security breach within Hogwarts Castle. Reports contain information leaked from the Castle about an organization calling itself the Order of the Phoenix.

This organization is now classified as a terrorist group under Article 18, Section F: Should any group be found guilty of harm to persons or property, it is to be immediately disbanded with the organization's members turned in for questioning. Failure to do so will result in fines or arrest directly proportional to the severity of the offense.

At least one of your staff members have been identified as members of the Order of the Phoenix. Though they have been sent owls with the times to appear before the Wizengamot, we would also appreciate your cooperation in these proceedings. Should any miss their appointment, please send an owl with the name of the offender and we shall handle the situation.

Please be aware that several members have already been brought before the court to stand trial with the Minister presiding. The Ministry of Magic holds the education of children as of the utmost importance and does not require your presence at these trials.

We sincerely thank you for your cooperation during these trying times.

Regards,

Amelia Bones  
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Very, very bad news indeed. He should have brought Amelia Bones into his fold but, it always seemed too dangerous.

But what was he going to do about this situation? Surely he could not go into the Ministry of Magic and turn himself in for questioning especially since he had not been implicated. However, he would lose many good people if he allowed the proceedings to continue. Perhaps there was a way to turn this situation on its head.

He sat down at his desk and stroked his white beard. A knock sounded at his door.

"Enter."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than an irate Potions Master stormed in. "What is the meaning of this?!" A parchment with the Ministry of Magic header was slammed onto his desk and he released a long-suffering sigh.

"I am not yet certain what to do about this, Severus."

His staircase began to move and Pomona Sprout, Filius Flitwick, Minerva McGonagall, and Valencia Crawley appeared all holding similar notifications.

"Don't you all have classes?" Albus Dumbledore asked feeling more and more overwhelmed.

"Receiving an owl in the middle of class with this sort of message is extremely distracting," the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher snarled.

"Albus, what are we going to do?" Minerva asked.

"Provide a distraction of some sort," the Headmaster suggested. "Distract the orchestrator's attention long enough to smooth over our 'offenses.'"

"And how do we do that?" Pomona asked, staring down at the parchment unhappily.

"With one of your students, of course, Pomona."

The five members of the Order of the Phoenix looked up at their leader in surprise.

* * *

**AN: Meh, hi again. R&R if you wish. :D**


	4. Everyone's Talking About It

**Disclaimer: Don't own the world but most of the characters that I'm using are mine. The plot is also mine although with over 638,000 Harry Potter fanfics on this site alone it might have been done before. **

* * *

**Chapter 4: Everyone's Talking About It**

Gawain Riddle was by no means a stupid boy. He was clever, cunning, calculating, and above all curious. That was probably why he was very nearly a hat-stall. Or it would have been if it weren't telling him that greatness would be his, not in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but Gryffindor. A ready sneer formed on his lips as he gazed across the Great Hall towards the table under the red banner. He'd been insulted at the implication that he was a foolish tool that would charge head first into battle. He was a Riddle not a Potter. He'd leave heroics to them.

Speaking of a Potter. His gaze shifted to the Hufflepuff table and especially onto Callie Potter. He hadn't spoken to her much, or at all, since the Hogwarts Express only exchanging a short nod of recognition as they passed each other in the halls. They didn't have many classes together except for Astronomy and Charms. And even then he couldn't really just go up to her and strike up a conversation. Normally, this would be just fine with him, but there was something about her that made him feel...complete.

This odd feeling had resulted in a letter to his mother who hadn't wasted much time in writing back.

"_My sweet knight_," she'd scrawled. "_Just your first month back and already in love! I'm thrilled! She is a pure-blood, correct? If so, we can have the marriage contracts arranged and ready before your sixteenth birthday! Much sooner than we've managed for Gaius and Callisto. I've sent along a box of chocolates for you to give her_." Below that his father had managed to a word in edge-wise. "_You're much too young for such things_."

He quite agreed with his father but unfortunately he now burned a deep red every time he thought about the letter. It didn't help that all following letters from his mother demanded to know how her future daughter-in-law was fairing. He'd choked on his bacon the first time he'd read this. Silas had laughed.

But honestly there was something about her than caught her attention and asking around he knew one thing for sure. It was not that she was his intellectual equal. And he was certain he knew exactly what it was. Because, really...How many people had a name like _Caelestis_? Celeste, sure that could be a coincidence. But not a name so...Riddle.

She'd introduced herself as a Potter, though. And his father hadn't given much credence to theory. Not that his father would share his suspicions so openly. For all Gawain knew Tom Riddle was doing research about her at this very moment.

At this moment, all the teachers who should have been teaching were sitting at the Head Table deep in conversation. The Headmaster, like always, wore a calm, twinkling mask and swept his gaze across the Hall. For all appearances, he didn't seem bothered by the rumors floating around the Great Hall. Each contained only one consistent and therefore valid element. The teachers had received an owl which unnerved them.

Draco Malfoy, a distant relative of his, was already gloating. "Father told me all about this of course. It's about time the Ministry took greater interest in our education. He and the Board of Governors have been pushing for an educational reform for some time now."

Leave it to a Malfoy to speak before knowing all the facts. Gawain returned his attention to the Hufflepuff table and barely noticed what was going on around him until Gaius placed the _Daily Prophet_ in front of him. He looked down at the front page.

_Five Hogwarts Professors to Appear Before Wizengamot _

_Yesterday, Mundungus Fletcher, who was arrested on the scene of the Borgin & Burkes' attack in Knockturn Alley last week, accepted a plea deal with prosecuting Law Wizards. In exchange for the names of his collaborators, Fletcher's sentence would be reduced from five years in Azkaban to two years in Grund's Peak with the possibility of early release and three years of mandatory community service. _

_Mr. Fletcher revealed the names of six others. Sources are not liberty to confirm who these individuals are but admit that five of them are employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _

_It has also been confirmed that Mr. Fletcher and his conspirators are part of a terrorist organization known as the Order of the Phoenix which has been connected to numerous attacks since the destruction of Riddle Manor on Halloween eleven years ago. _

_Continued on Page 4_

Gawain didn't bother turning to page 4 and instead slid the Daily Prophet back towards his older brother who was currently in his sixth year. "Father must be pleased," Gawain stated. "He's been trying to round them up for ages."

His brother nodded. "I reckon so. It hasn't been easy for the Ministry to get a hold of these guys. The Order has been like Hydra. Take down one guy and seven more take his place, not to mention their hierarchical system. It's been impossible to take down the leaders at the top because very few know who they are."

"How would a guy like Mundungus Fletcher know the higher ups? Isn't he just a common thief, a petty criminal?" Gawain asked barely masking his disgust as he looked down at the unkempt image of Fletcher.

Silas, who'd been listening took the paper, and opened up to the next article on page 4. "They probably needed someone who knew the streets; and who better than street scum?" Gaius answered.

"Mr. Burkes died in the attack," Silas said. "Did you know this is only the second attack in which someone died?"

"The first?"

"Sirius Black on November 1st, 1981. He blew up his supposed best friend, Peter Pettigrew, and killed twelve muggles," Gaius supplied. "Apparently he was a staunch supporter of the Order of the Phoenix, and was furious that Pettigrew had refused to participate in the downfall of the Dark Lord and BOOM! He's serving a life sentence in Azkaban."

Gawain blinked up at his brother. "That's stupid."

"Yeah, it is. Oh, by the way," Gaius said said as he began to back away. "He's probably your future wife's godfather."

Silas laughed as Gawain face-palmed.

* * *

"Come on, now. Just swish and flick!" Professor Flitwick instructed as he stood atop a stack of books. "Don't forget the pronunciation – "

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" The feather rose steadily into the air as Callie watched with something akin to pride. She knew she was lousy at most things and disastrous in Potions, but this...this was something she was good at. It didn't require precision or memorization, just will and unlike in Professor Crawley's class, she didn't have to aim it at other people.

It was useful too. Last year, Ron and Hermione had defeated a troll with this spell. Harry said the spell had caught the troll's club and down it went on top of its head. Callie wanted to do something that cool and she could too. She was good.

"Sarah, look." Callie demonstrated the wrist movement slowly and Sarah nodded, imitated, and her feather rose.

"Excellent! Excellent work, girls! Ten points to Hufflepuff!" Callie and Sarah exchanged a smile and then proceeded to levitate Jacob Alexis's textbook while he was reading to figure out how to angle his wand. He got annoyed quite quickly and after a mini-rant from him, Callie decided to find entertainment elsewhere.

And then she found him. He was sitting in the back next to that Cristoff boy who caught her eye and then nudged him. He followed Cristoff's gaze and raised a brow inquisitively when he saw her looking. She grinned, waved, and pointed her wand at the feather neither boy had touched.

Callie hadn't spoken to him since before the Sorting, so she was kind of surprised when he nodded, picked up his wand and whispered the incantation.

"Brilliant! Take five points for Slytherin, Mr. Riddle!" She swore Flitwick was all-seeing.

"Thank you, Professor," he said with a grin of his own. Then he nodded back down to Callie and, as Silas muttered something in his ear, turned bright red before looked away.

Odd...giggling, she turned back to Sarah who was now levitating her own textbook just over Alexis' head. "That threat only works with a sword," Callie said aloud.

"Professor Flitwick! Do you know if Gryffindor's sword is still here in Hogwarts?" Sarah asked loudly.

Chuckling, the small professor shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Abrams, but I don't."

"Ah, well."

"Yes, well, good job everyone. For homework I would like you all to practice, practice, practice! And remember there will be no class on Thursday, so you have the whole weekend!"

With that the class rose as one and began to pack up before leaving. "You don't think they'll arrest Professor Flitwick, do you?" Callie asked Sarah as they left. "He's probably the nicest, sweetest, and best teacher here. It would be awful if they did."

"No, they can't. He was here during that attack, so how could he have been involved?" Sarah responded also looking back towards the classroom with a frown. "Merlin, Callie. Riddle is looking at you again!"

* * *

**AN: Sorry for taking such a long time with this. I sort of write whenever I feel like it and I've been busy reading rather than writing/typing. So thank you for the review leylinjan. And for this story, there is a prophecy (same one as in canon) but this Tom does the smart thing and ignores it. He already had a family before the prophecy was made and really, even in canon, the prophecy wouldn't have negated the possibility of him having a family (though, of course, he didn't). **

**Anyway, that's it. Love, DoR**


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